Rescue gives Jack Russell terriers a new chance at life

YI-KE PENG, The Advocate

Updated 5:13 pm, Tuesday, January 10, 2012

Russell Refuge president Dale Mountan (left), board member Pauline Clark and employee Susan Lasko bid farewell to a dog who is about to be taken with Clark to her home. Russell Refuge has saved approximately 900 Jack Russell Terriers in over 20 years. (Yi-Ke Peng / Times Union)

RHINEBECK — Every night, Dale Mountan sits in front of her computer to scroll down a list of dogs on death row in New York City shelters.

"They have an all-night-long hotline you can call if you want to pull one off the kill-list," the 66-year-old Hudson Valley native said. "You have to call before 6 a.m."

Today's column is devoted to featuring Mountan's self-run Jack Russell terrier rescue and advocating for the support of animal rescues like hers.

In a little more than two decades, Mountan's Russell Refuge has rescued, rehabilitated and placed approximately 900 dogs.

It all started when she published a Jack Russell terrier calendar in the late 1980s and began receiving requests from dog owners for help placing their unwanted dogs.

"It started out very innocently — one here, one there," she said. "I never intended to do this. It just mushroomed from there."

These days Mountan is housing 40-some dogs at a time on her horse farm where she and her equine veterinarian husband live. Yet, she is forced to turn away half a dozen dogs a day. Some of the dogs she receives are private surrenders; many are from the New York City kill-list.

Last Thursday, when I visited her home — and was greeted by the barking of 11 terriers of her own — Mountan was expecting the arrival of yet another dog.

"I said I would take it and right now I'm sitting here thinking where am I going to put this dog that's coming in today? But we'll figure something out. I'm one of those people that have faith," she said.

Some the dogs suffered cruel fates before coming to Russell Refuge. A three-legged terrier named Milo, whom Mountan kept as her own, had been found bound up in wire, with his left hind foot chewed off in his struggle to extricate himself. Though these days Milo is looking healthy and strong, dragging himself where he wants to go, the trauma had produced enough nerve damage that for a long time he was without bowel or bladder control.

Saving these dogs on her own, with only the help of a few volunteers and one part-time employee, has meant hard work and sacrifices for Mountan. Her day starts at 6 a.m. and is followed by a marathon of laundering, feeding, giving medication, cleaning and walking the dogs, ending only when each of the current 46 dogs is put to bed around 10 p.m. Only a few hours in a day are left for herself. Mountan said she has not gone on a vacation in 12 years.

"The good news is that we do a very good job," she said.

The terriers at Russell Refuge certainly look like they are well cared for. Most are kept next to Mountan's house in a small maze of roofed pens, with insulated and heated doghouses inside for them to retreat to. Each terrier has a coat and a heated water bowl to keep the water from freezing this time of year. The refuge also has a large fenced area, where these particularly intelligent, energetic dogs are taken out to play.

"These are big dogs in little-dog suits," she said. "They require what I call the above average commitment."

Specializing in one breed allows her to do a better job tending to their needs, she said.

All of the refuge dogs are spayed or neutered, micro-chipped, heartworm tested and up to date on all vaccinations before adoption. To adopt, there's an application process and a $250 donation fee. The refuge became a non-profit organization six years ago and runs entirely on donations to support its sometimes thankless efforts.

Mountan urges those who are interested in getting a dog to do their homework to see if a particular breed suits their living situation and lifestyle. And if they must get a purebred dog, there's no need to go buy one.